


Fandom Favourite

by Anchan (Anchan_thevolleyballplayer)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Animal Crossing - Freeform, Getting Together, Indirect Love Confessions, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Strangers to Online Friends to Lovers, developing feelings, online crush, switching POV, text fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29434386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchan_thevolleyballplayer/pseuds/Anchan
Summary: Amidst all the writing, Minho finds that Jisung is no more than a panicked, self-conscious college student who stresses over deadlines and doesn’t answer for days and is just as hopelessly single.Oh, the last information isn’t mean suggestively, but Minho notes that just as fervently as everything else that has to do with their project.(Alternatively: Minho and Jisung bond over art, writing, and Animal Crossing.)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 26
Kudos: 106
Collections: MINSUNG FICATHON: Round One; 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [MINSUNG FICATHON](http://twitter.com/minsungficathon)! The original prompt **#P103** :
>
>> Minho and Jisung meet online when they’re paired for a fandom event similar to a bigbang, where Minho is the artist assigned to draw for Jisung’s 50,000 words fictional masterpiece. (Or Minho can be the writer, Jisung the artist, doesn’t matter)
> 
> The biggest thank you goes to my beta, I would have never finished this without their help ♡
> 
> ((Excessive mentions of random animal crossing characters ahead, but their identities aren’t important outside of Jisung’s story!))

Minho finds the event by chance while mindlessly scrolling through twitter and retweeting art from people who are more recognized than he’ll ever be (he doesn’t mind all that much – for him, art is about having fun expressing yourself, not the number of followers that decorates your account).

He doesn’t even consider signing up. He just appreciates their graphics. And reads a little too much into their FAQ. About the requirements for submitted pieces, about wanting artists to accompany the already written pieces with their own works.

We invite all fan creators enamoured with the Animal Crossing Series to participate in the ACS Big Bang 2021. All info found down below!

Schedule

May……………………………………………………………………………………………………………Writer sign-ups

June 1st…………………………………………………………………………………………Confirmation emails sent

June – July……………………………………………………………………………………………………Creation period

August 1st……………………………………………………………………………………………………Claiming begins

September 1st…………………………………………………………………………………………………Claiming ends

September 30th…………………………………………………………………………………………………1st Check-in

December 1st…………………………………………………………………………………………………All pieces due

December 10th…………………………………………………………………………………………………………Posting

SIGN-UP FORM

_[link attached]_

FAQ

…

Both digital and traditional art is supported. Check out the prompt list and claim one for yourself!

He clicks on the embed link out of curiosity – even if he’s not participating, he loves reading stories, and he’s curious about what masterpieces may come out of this event.

The prompts don’t have their authors revealed, just the brief summary, a few specifications about the contents and a little green mark symbol to indicate if the story is already finished. The claimed prompts are highlighted green to stand out, much to Minho’s liking. He reads those first.

Prompt 62 seems interesting. Minho zones out briefly, playing through a few scenes in his head that he would like to see, before returning to the present. He goes to click out of the spreadsheet and continue on with his life (which means procrastinating from the assignment that’s due tomorrow).

But then, just before his cursor hovers over the _close window_ button, he notices _it._

The event is fandom-centric, rather than meant for a particular character. And that’s fine, he’s not actively looking for his favourite villager, just browsing through the dozens of prompts. It still excites him when he spots one particular idea involving Punchy. 

He pumps his fist with a victorious whisper-shout.

Prompt 103:

Punchy prefers the uneventful life of his home, where only he and his sea bass are absorbing music and movies playing softly in the background, where nothing stands out too much. Bob sometimes urges him to at least consider picking up a more active hobby, but he doesn’t take him seriously. After his older brother Bob, a high-class detective, disappears in the middle of an unsolved case, Punchy decides it is time to get some action into his life.

It’s perfect – detective themes, heavily plot-focused, a premise of light-heartedness from the lazy villagers – it checks all of his boxes as if the prompt were made for Minho.

And then he remembers – it could be.

All he needs is to claim it. Which is what he does. The excitement thrums through Minho as he rushes to sign-up, follow the event’s blog, and then stares at the soon-to-be claimed prompt for another minute for good measure.

He then closes the tab to start working on his assignment, since that’s what made him stay up so late in the first place. If it weren’t for schoolwork, Minho would’ve been in bed hours ago.

Minho had honestly forgotten about the whole thing by the time the confirmation email comes through a few days later. Schoolwork keeps him busy, and a few other WIPs greet him whenever he opens his laptop, so it completely slips his mind.

The Sailor Moon collab piece has been waiting for a neat line art since forever, and he really shouldn’t have given up on the Over the Garden Wall illustration after spending so long on the background. Don’t even remind him of the Looney Toons doodles for Felix’ birthday. 

But he _does_ have to check his emails for returned assignments and possible class instructions from the professors – and one day, it just happens to decorate the top of his inbox.

The clock shows an ugly morning hour, and would it not be for the morning classes Thursdays offer, Minho would be probably deep in dreamland. Today, he feels awake and alive.

Joy overtakes him as he clicks the email open, too eager to wait until the afternoon to check the details – it’s slightly unnerving, waiting for the page to load, wanting to see the prompt of his first choice so desperately.

It’s the whole reason for his participation, and while his second choice – a light-hearted circus themed story – also sounds entertaining, prompt 103 remains a champion in his heart. 

He relaxes when he spots the claimed prompt section, letting out a relieved breath – and then it immediately catches in his lungs again. His heart skips a beat when he reads further and finds who the author assigned to him is: _J.one._

**Hello participant, thank you for signing up for the Animal Crossing Big Bang 2021!**

**You claimed the prompt P103:**

Punchy prefers the uneventful life of his home, where only he and his sea bass are absorbing music and movies playing softly in the background, where nothing stands out too much. Bob sometimes urges him to at least consider picking up a more active hobby, but he doesn’t take him seriously. After his older brother Bob, a high-class detective, disappears in the middle of an unsolved case, Punchy decides it is time to get some action into his life.

**Writer’s social media:**

_@j1.squirrel (Twitter)_

_@J.one (AO3)_

You’re now encouraged to start drawing. If you have any questions or concerns, please reply to this email, or reach out to us through Twitter. 

At first, he thinks he’s dreaming – of course, there is quite the number of fandom favourites taking part in this event from what he’s seen so far, but it has to be fate’s work to get them together.

Damn, working with J.one, the writers whose stories Minho has memorised at this point, and they never lose their charm. The author doesn’t necessarily write Minho’s favourite tropes, but something about his writing style and the endless philosophies and wonders pulls him in.

And, despite appearing quite self-conscious in the author notes, J.one is funny and charming.

Minho enjoys those stories the most – when he lets go of the seriousness and drama and makes way for precious jokes and light-hearted situations Minho longs to experience, just for the satisfaction of having done something so endearingly written.

It makes his stomach full of butterflies just to think about having the pleasure to work with him.

Which is what makes him avoid messaging J.one for the rest of the day – though it doesn’t stop him from mindlessly opening and closing the confirmation email and J.one’s twitter profile, looking for any sign of being mistaken.

But no, J.one’s profile shows the retweeted event’s notice post as clearly as a day, and both social media accounts from the email match.

He must be dreaming.

Apparently he isn’t, though, because the notification that pops up in the middle of a philosophy class that has him making ruckus he feels embarrassed for and promptly silencing his phone is clearly from him. Waiting to be read and answered.

Needless to say, waiting for the class to end feels like eternity – but he makes it without imploding, and he swiftly rushes to the cafeteria without much distraction.

That gives him enough of a breather to clear his thoughts, bracing himself as he opens the app. 

**@j1.squirrel**

Hey, seems like we’re stuck together ;P

I checked out your page, your art is so pretty, can’t wait to see what you draw for me!!

If I end up finishing this lmao

**@leeleeknow**

omg thank you

your fics are amazing I read every one of them

also, hi

**@j1.squirrel**

asjkgjgdfhdhs I didn’t know I had readers like that

my fics are nothing extra, just dealing with life, you know

_I think they’re pretty amazing_ , he types out – then rushes to delete his words. Okay, that might sound a little too direct. _Don’t put yourself down, they’re good_ , sounds too bossy.

Why is this so hard?

A couple of more messages pop up on his screen before he can properly form a response. 

**@j1.squirrel**

Do you wanna see the disaster of my Punchy fic??

so you get an idea of what to draw, maybe

or just tell me if you see anything weird that stands out, I’m in a desperate need for a beta

_[ link attached]_

**@leeleeknow**

Sure, I’ll take a look once I get home

and I don’t know much about beta-ing but I can give it a try?

writing isn’t my strong suit tho

**@j1.squirrel**

mine neither lol

He’s all bubbly when he gets home, passing by Dori, greeting him with a scratch behind the ear before heading right towards his bed. Once he’s done melting into the mattress, he springs back to his feet and makes himself dinner, then scoots down to the living room area to feed Dori.

“Are you proud of your dad?” he coos into Dori’s back, but the cat doesn’t pay him any attention, enjoying his meal. “He made a friend today!” 

A friend is probably a word too strong, but it sounds nice coming from his mouth. He can’t believe he’s talking to _the J.one_. Because Minho doesn’t _approach_ people online, not even cute chatty writers.

He’s always secretly dreamed about getting to know him, thinking up excuses for further communication rather than just leaving short, sweet comments below fics with enough attention to make the comment be overlooked (yet J.one answers every single one of them).

He’s never thought the opportunity would come, though.

He should stop acting like a fanboy if he wants to keep it that way. 

At least it’s not like J.one can hear him, lest he were one of his cats, but that’s very unlikely. 

**@j1.squirrel**

don’t want to be nosy but did you read it??

It’s just that I’m kinda stuck so

**@leeleeknow**

I’m reading it just now

what are XXXs?

**@j1.squirrel**

oh um

that’s when I want to skip to another scene but don’t know how to connect them

it won’t be in the final draft don’t worry

I always pray I don’t forget to rewrite them so I mark them yellow

I’m rambling now I’ll just let you read

**@leeleeknow**

understand, understand

it’s good so far

The exposition is flowery, but it flows quickly and J.one’s ability to fluently change the mood from a lazy afternoon to dramatic tension shines through right from the start. Then comes the phone call, and Minho can basically _hear_ the villagers through their lines.

He almost forgets it’s just a draft, so immersed in the story until he notices another line of X’s.

Just before they could reveal information about the case – when he switches back to their chat, J.one confirms that he doesn’t know what to put there either.

**@j1.squirrel**

Oh man I’ve been working on this for months

and I still can’t answer that

Probably something about what his latest case was?

Or maybe about the company in general??

I have no clue rip

**@leeleeknow**

should I give you some ideas?

**@j1.squirrel**

oh um

it’s okay!!

I’ll just figure out later

Minho decides not to push.

After all, they can return to it whenever, adding stuff once they figure out the later circumstances. Maybe it’s even more effective that way, letting the ideas come naturally once the story is set and written.

Nevertheless, he still bugs J.one about each new skipped scene he encounters. Most of the time, he has no clue what to include, so he offers humour instead. J.one seems to appreciate that.

Soon, it becomes clear their humour goes well together, and the conversation stops revolving around the story. J.one doesn’t mention it, so Minho doesn’t either.

But it spreads warmth through his chest.

Who would have thought J.one is such a good company? 

**@j1.squirrel**

oh shoot it’s late I should get some sleep

I have morning classes tmrw

**@leeleeknow**

you don’t want to know how late it is here

I usually don’t stay up so late

you have a bad influence on me

**@j1.squirrel**

HEY

you’re the one talking to me I didn’t know how late it was for you

anyway, good night!! sleep well!!!

**@leeleeknow**

Good night ^^

**✎**

Jisung’s been working on the fic for months now, and he’s stuck. It’s a psychological detective story absolutely no one asked for, but the prompt was there, and he couldn’t just leave such a unique opportunity pass.

He knows it’s _not_ his usual thing, but he loves pushing his boundaries and trying out new concepts – some turn out to be easy, a second home to his creativity. Others are… not as friendly.

Sometimes he wonders if he should have stayed within the walls of his comfort zone, doing what he knows best – emotional hurt and comfort, romance, slice of life. 

But it was worth the try, and now it’s absolutely worth finishing.

He felt stupid contacting his partner right away, but the sooner they became acquainted, the sooner he could maybe ask for help and writing advice – and advice did Lee Know provide. He must be a blessing from heaven.

After almost a month long break from writing, the Big Bang document haunting him from between previously finished school assignments since he’s not organised enough to keep them in separate folders (he cleans his messy computer storage every once in a while, but mostly during school breaks), he can finally expand on the original story. All thanks to Lee Know’s brilliant ideas.

Jisung wasn’t sure about letting him see his progress at first – scared of the reception, scared to be vulnerable – but he doesn’t regret it in the slightest. Lee Know’s comments make up for any nervousness he feels when notifying him about new progress. 

_What did he do to deserve him?_

Jisung’s never been the one to overshare his writing – well, outside of publicly posting them, but that’s different. Once the story is polished enough, it’s worth being read (most of the time).

It’s the process of production, the imperfect draft, the one he hasn’t had time to go over with a fine-toothed comb ten times, he never wants the public to see and judge.

Except Lee Know isn’t public, has a good nature, humours Jisung’s creativity and silly ideas, and he might know next to nothing about writing, but it doesn’t matter because he’s doing such a good job of keeping Jisung above the surface. 

He must be an angel, Jisung decides after thinking about it a little too long as he scrolls down the document and ignores the glaring yellow marks of where to continue with work.

A notification pops up on his phone then, and Jisung really shouldn’t be this excited when he recognises Lee Know’s username.

**@leeleeknow**

Can I share my progress with you?

**@j1.squirrel**

Sure!! Can’t wait to see!!!

I’m writing rn so just check it out whenever you need some inspiration

**@leeleeknow**

_[image attached]_

What do you think?

It’s messy but the stain in the background is supposed to be Punchy sneaking from behind

Jisung likes to doodle, and sometimes paints, so he knows a tiny bit about being an artist. Although the process is quite different from digital drawing, the outcome feels familiar, flashing with colours Jisung would only dream of mixing together, and sparkling with character.

It’s absolutely beautiful, already.

And that’s supposed to be just a coloured sketch, but wow.

**@j1.squirrel**

I can clearly see what’s happening, looks neat!

Wait, where are they? is that a lighthouse?

**@leeleeknow**

Yeah, I didn’t know which route they took but I figured this would look good

**@j1.squirrel**

How did you know I have it on my island???

ARE YOU A PSYCHIC?????

**@leeleeknow**

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

I wish

Jisung smiles to himself.

One of the very reasons he’s gained a soft spot for the artist. They banter, and that’s all it takes to bring a smile to his lips that lasts for hours. 

To be completely honest, he was slightly worried about having his prompt claimed. Sure, on one side, a cool illustration would accompany his story at the end of the event, hopefully attracting more readers. On the other hand, it meant communicating with another creator.

And from the experience he’s gained in the previous fandoms, it doesn’t always go smoothly. Some partners were irresponsible, didn’t communicate well – which Jisung understands and hates about himself – but others were outwardly rude.

Lee Know is the best thing that could happen to him. He’s nice, they can talk for hours, and he’s helpful even though he’s not even a writer in the first place.

Maybe it’s the fandom – _who could be an asshole if they cared for these adorable animal friends?_ – but he likes to think it’s a personal quirk of Lee Know. 

**@j1.squirrel**

Actually do you want a personalised guide around my island??

Might give you a better idea of what I’m writing

just keep that offer in mind

**@leeleeknow**

I would love to???

wow

I didn’t know I was that privileged

or am I not?

**@j1.squirrel**

well, @chick.lixiee technically lives there

**@leeleeknow**

Ah, I see

**@j1.squirrel**

BUT!!!!

HE’S MY ROOMMATE SO IT DOESN’T COUNT

We share the island

**@leeleeknow**

wait wait wait

You’re roommates with Lix

Doesn’t he live in Seoul now?

**@j1.squirrel**

yeah in my apartment

wait should I regret telling you

what if you’re a serial killer

YOU DO KNOW A LOT ABOUT CRIMES

**@leeleeknow**

Calm down I’m not a criminal

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

I wouldn’t be doing art commissions to buy extra coffee

If I were a criminal, I would be a high class assassin or maybe a secret agent

Getting paid millions of won per mission

**@j1.squirrel**

Agents aren’t criminals though, they serve the law

**@leeleeknow**

okay but they still do illegal stuff they just get paid for it by the governement

and they’re bound to look flashy with the tight suits and black glasses

they have to appear seductive at times

_[leeleeknow is typing…]_

**@j1.squirrel**

wow are you flirting with me

because I’m sold

only if you show up in a tight suit and black glasses tho

**@leeleeknow**

my agent name would be Lee Know

wait oh

**@j1.squirrel**

oh my god 

I’m so sorry!!

just my impulsive single ass talking for me

sorry 

so uhm 

any progress? 

They slowly fade out into another conversation – he listens to Lee Know talking about the story and possible alternative endings, then about Marshal’s fashion choices and why he should model for the Able Sisters, and they end up carried away.

Like always.

Jisung doesn’t mind one bit, noting down any stray ideas that come to him and getting lost in the mindless banter. Even with the stress from school piling up, talking to Lee Know grounds him.

Even as they stop messaging, Lee Know never leaves his mind.

He’s present in his thoughts during classes, and he never moves from the centre even after returning home. Felix awaits him with dinner, and they chat, but Jisung can’t quite focus.

“It’s just that I hit another plot hole,” he mindlessly replies to Felix’ inquiries and shoos him away with one hand whenever Felix leans too close to his phone screen.

“Right,” his roommate hums, not quite convinced. “Have you tried asking your partner? They sure have some quality ideas if you keep turning down our Mario Kart evenings just to hang out with them.”

“Well, his response isn’t always ‘sacrifice it to Tweety’ if he can’t come up with a solution,” Jisung points out with a raised eyebrow, “unlike someone’s.” 

Felix laughs heartily. “And? Are you telling me Tweety wouldn’t be a good way to spice things up?”

“These looney-tooners,” Jisung shakes his head, faking exasperation.

“These lovebirds,” Felix returns, breaking out into a fit of laughter when Jisung raises his head in alarm. “Caught you! I totally caught you!”

“What are you saying– we’re not lovebirds, God, just buddies,” he crinkles his nose. “How would you feel if someone assumed _we,_ ” he gestures between them with a finger, “were together?”

“Honestly? I would start calling you ‘honey’ on Twitter just for the show,” Felix answers, grinning. “But if you _aren’t,_ then what are you doing right now?” 

Jisung splutters, turning his phone off and slamming it onto the table – maybe harder than necessary. Felix can’t see that he’s scrolling Lee Know’s profile. It doesn’t mean anything, he does that all the time with art blogs, but it doesn’t serve his side of the discussion.

Maybe it’s more of an assault from Felix’s side, though. 

“I sure think that didn’t look like texting, I’m just looking at memes,” he defends himself, but Felix is already reaching for the object of evidence. “Felix, let go–”

The Australian easily unlocks his phone, having the combination memorised, and peers at the screen. Why hadn’t he just closed the application, letting Felix stare at the plain home screen? He could have.

“Aha!” 

“Aha _nothing,”_ he chants victoriously when he earns his phone back, easily winning the little tug-of-war and pulling it towards his chest. He sticks out his tongue, to which Felix mirrors his expression with an amused smile.

Thinking the bickering is over, Jisung unlocks his phone to click out of twitter before anything more embarrassing happens – and then he notices. 

Oh damn. “Felix!”

“What– what did I do?” he peers over his shoulder once again, both curious and mildly panicking. He doesn’t seem to understand the harm he caused, though. “I liked that photo, and? That’s what makes you freak out like a high schooler?”

“That’s super uncool,” Jisung lectures him through pursed lips, cheeks flaming. “He’s going to think I stalked his profile.”

“Uh, no?” he gives Jisung his best exasperated look, bonus for one raised eyebrow. “Look, you should really get those weird high schooler rules out of your brain. Artists _love_ when someone appreciates their old art, especially if someone scrolls down that far down the rabbit hole of cat photos and memes.”

“Sounds like someone’s been there, huh?”

“We’ve been following each other for years,” he confirms. “I’ve been there; we _created_ that history.”

“Huh,” is all Jisung manages to get through as he clicks out of the app to busy himself with everything but the thought of Lee Know finding a notification about a new follower. _Hopefully,_ he won’t mention it. They’re working together, after all. 


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, talking to J.one is truly something.

It’s not like Minho hadn’t interacted with a fellow creator before – Felix is there, for one. And it’s not even the first mutual who approached  _ him,  _ which also makes sense. He’s a project partner for J.one.

But it does exceed his expectations.

And then comes this – J.one actually being someone he used to, well, idolise. A little.

That was before. Now, he’s allowed to see his work in progress, no matter how messy, and has unlimited access to the cute and ridiculous conversations that bloom between them over text.

What a turn of events, really.

_ And  _ J.one seems to appreciate his art, too. Which isn’t new, but it makes him happy – they’re on the same level, somehow. He’s not just a  _ cool author _ with an admirable writing style anymore.

Minho almost forgets that he’s supposed to be one, most of the time. Their messages make him think of high school friends, nostalgia, familiarity. Forget that it sounds so cheesy, J.one made a great impression. Almost as if they were… friends. 

**@j1.squirrel**

Hey

it got me thinking…

do you have an ao3 acc since you read my fics?

do we actually interact without me knowing??

**@leeleeknow**

I choose not to answer that

**@j1.squirrel**

Fair enough

I mean it’s valid 

you probably write long posts under my fics crying about how much you love me

**@leeleeknow**

kinda conceited, aren’t we

You’ll need to use some of your brain power to figure that out

**@j1.squirrel**

Too bad there is none lol

Messaging J.one feels right.

Minho wonders why it comes as such a shocking revelation – maybe because being on texting terms with an author like him used to sound like an achievement, and those never come easily. It’s more like destiny now, with how easily they get along.

Whatever it might be, he’s glad it’s connecting them. 

They get an email about the approaching check-in a week ahead, and Minho diligently fills it out as soon as he finds the instructions waiting in his inbox. He does some minor changes on his WIP to have some progress to show, but it’s mostly to feel good about being productive on a free day.

Then he messages J.one to remind him of the deadline – he’s learnt that J.one is forgetful – and the author replies enthusiastically, swearing that he’s already working on it.

Minho tries to chat a bit more, wanting to hear more about Punchy’s current status in the story, but J.one doesn’t answer any further questions. Which is understandable, since he’s probably finishing up the latest chapter to submit – it’s disappointing nonetheless, since he was eager to know if the story already progressed past locating the mastermind’s HQ.

That’s as far as they’ve gotten with planning earlier, and J.one has excused himself then to write down everything they came up with before he forgets. But he never returned nor expanded on the topic.

Well, Minho will have to drag that information from him once they’re past the check-in. 

A few days later, he finds a new email in his inbox. It confuses him, knowing he’s already submitted his progress, but he opens it anyway, expecting to see some updates regarding the schedule or similar details. What he finds instead is a message from the mods regarding  _ J.one. _

Hello!

We’re reaching out to you because we were unable to reach your partner. We noticed your part of the check-in has been submitted, are there any complications with J.one’s piece?

None that he knows of, no.

Minho agrees to contact him, sending a streak of messages to his partner. The first ones are just greetings, some banter to catch his attention, then come questions.

**@leeleeknow**

Hey

Earth to J.one?

how are you doing with the check-in?

stuck on a particular scene?

you should be stuck in my head instead ;)

come on that was a good one

J.one is taking his time to answer – the whole afternoon, actually, occasionally retweeting content but ignoring Minho’s attempts at conversations without at least leaving him on read. Not even replying to mentions on the timeline.

It’s frustrating.

Not only because of the event. Rather than that, it makes Minho painfully aware of how far away they are through the screen, how sparse their connection truly is. Sure, it’s as if they were in the same room when they interact – but an ocean apart when it’s just fruitless calls into the void of Twitter. 

And then there’s the possibility of J.one being hurt, somehow. Minho wouldn’t even know.

**@leeleeknow**

your extension is due this weekend

everything okay?

I’m here if you need help

No response to these, either. At least there’s a notification somewhere on J.one’s phone reminding him of the deadline, even if he doesn’t want to open it.

It’s the most Minho can do, anyway. 

Not even a hot shower brings relief, leaving him even more restless and eager to check his phone, rushing to dress into a random pair of pyjamas and pacing around the dorm until he locates the device. He doesn’t find any new messages, only Dori curled up on the couch as if he were guarding the phone, keeping an eye on the notifications.

Minho smiles softly at the picture. Dori always somehow  _ knows  _ what’s bothering him, providing comfort whenever he’s stressed out from exams, sleeping next to his head whenever he’s sick.

Keeping an eye on him when he’s worried.

With a sigh, he drops onto the couch next to Dori, apologising for startling him. The cat doesn’t put on his usual hurt expression, instead butting into Minho’s side until he’s allowed to climb into his lap. 

“At least you’re here with me,” Minho purrs at him, watching as he turns over onto his back, stroking his belly gently. Dori paws at his hand playfully.

“Look at you, unbothered by the world,” he murmurs appreciatively, “by some stupid deadlines,” he continues, then pauses to take a deep breath, “by some cute boy who’s giving you a cold shoulder.”

Dori meows in response, nuzzling his head into Minho’s stomach.

“Why does it make your brother so upset, hm?” he continues talking, relaxing his expression when he realises he’s frowning. “He’d like to know, too.”

Despite spending every spare moment from early childhood with cats, he doesn’t speak their language. And yet, when Dori gives him that concerned look, he practically hears his tiny voice echoing through his head:  _ Hyung shouldn’t worry. _

Right, he shouldn’t.

Felix is probably taking care of it. After all, if Minho knows anything about the younger, it’s that he has a heart of gold and always goes an extra mile for his friends, including Minho. If there’s anyone who can help J.one with whatever is bothering him –  _ please, let it be just the check-in _ – it’s Felix.

And yet. He can’t be sure it will come soon enough.

“What if we get disqualified?” he contemplates. “He’s never going to finish this without a push.”

That would be such a waste, the story is amazing. They spent countless nights polishing every detail, and they still have a long way to go until they can wrap it up, but their hard work is showing in the progress. J.one’s doing a great job of narrating through the mystery case while still keeping it light-hearted enough to fit the source material.

It would be sad to let it go.

It would be even harder to let go of J.one. 

It may happen anyway, once the creation period is over, although Minho wants to think their bond is stronger than that. But this is different - no warning received, just a sudden loss of connection. 

At that thought, Minho’s heart squeezes uncomfortably. “What if we stop talking because we won’t have a reason to anymore?” 

Suddenly, it’s all too much to handle. He needs to know what’s wrong – for the sake of the Big Bang, but mostly for his own sanity. 

Which makes him resort to a different plan altogether –  _ someone  _ who will surely answer. The one who knows the best about J.one’s condition, whatever it might be. 

**@leeleeknow**

Hey you and j.one are roommates, right?

**@chick.lixiee**

yea

what’s the deal 👀

**@leeleeknow**

HOW DID YOU NOT TELL ME

Am I not a good enough mutual to you to keep a secret from me

**@chick.lixiee**

how do you know each other

**@leeleeknow**

oh no we don’t

we kinda got assigned to work together on a fic fest

and he said you’re roommates

**@chick.lixiee**

why am I suddenly dragged into your fanboy-ness

not that I mind

lemme grab some popcorn

Minho rolls his eyes, fingers rapping impatiently against his thigh. They don’t have time for Felix jokes. On the other hand, he would be taking things seriously if his roommate – or anyone he dearly cares about – were hurt. 

So it’s a good sign. 

Belatedly, Minho realises he’s probably not getting any further information until he answers Felix’ unspoken question. 

**@leeleeknow**

he’s super chill 

I was nervous to talk to him but he’s nice

**@chick.lixiee**

mhm continue

should I turn that one wedding commission into you and ji 🥴😉

**@leeleeknow**

🙄

that’s not what I wanted from u tho

is he okay?

he went mia and he’s not answering me

neither the mods, which is why they asked me to reach out to him

**@chick.lixiee**

oh don’t worry!!

he’s fine

having his emo hours but nothing that should concern u

he gets dramatic when he shows his work to other people, even me

**@leeleeknow**

yeah well but this is the check-in, so he has to

can I talk to him?

**@chick.lixiee**

gimme a moment to check on him

The _ moment _ turns into a radio silence, just like the one he’s receiving from J.one. It’s slightly unnerving, but Felix at least promised to get back to him. Didn’t he?

It stretches on for hours before Minho decides to immerse himself in his other WIPs. Sailor Moon finally receives her promised solid outline and the first layer of what will eventually be her face. It doesn’t take nearly as much time and energy as he thought it would. 

At the end of the day, he texts Felix the details about J.one’s extension, which he discussed with the mods beforehand. He does so with a heavy heart.

Although Felix thanks him and gives him a brief message about J.one doing fine, it doesn’t leave his mind that night. Another thing doesn’t – a few thoughts from their previous conversation stick with him until his mind is too foggy to think.

What’s the deal with showing his progress to the mods? Minho has seen it multiple times. It’s good. Even if he’s self-conscious about it, he should know Minho would point it out if the story was bad.

The second thought is simpler – it’s a name. Felix called him Ji.

Two days later, the extension date approaches, and J.one still hasn’t replied to Minho. Nor has Felix. Whatever is happening with the author must be serious if they keep it private – which means Minho has no right to meddle in, but it doesn’t make it easier to stay away.

It makes him feel restless, knowing there’s  _ something  _ happening on the other side – or rather, not happening – and that their project may be affected badly. But more than that, J.one may be affected.

Ultimately, it bugs him enough to give it a last shot. Minho texts him again, trying to sound as consoling as possible. He deals with kittens on a daily basis in the local shelter. He has Dori. It shouldn’t be difficult to comfort a human, not someone so close to him.

Maybe not  _ close,  _ but easy to get along with.

**@leeleeknow**

Felix told me you’re okay but

You’re stressed about the check-in, right?

it’s not as scary as you think

they probably just want to see you sent a document with progress

and the progress is good

Just

I’m here, okay? 

J.one leaves him on seen, and that itself is an improvement. He hasn’t even opened their chat since last weekend, either too busy or… whatever he’s going to find out tonight. And that makes Minho thrilled as much as worried, knowing they’ll get to interact again.

It could have been hours, but it’s probably only been several minutes before his phone suddenly starts ringing. The screen shows an unknown number, but the warmth in his stomach tells him otherwise.

He picks up the call with held breath, hoping to hear the right person. 

“Hey, is this actually your number or did Felix prank me?” a hushed voice makes it through the receiver, barely over a whisper. It’s way deeper than he would have imagined, but the mention of Felix makes it clear. This is J.one.

“It’s me,” he confirms hastily. “Are you okay?”

The silence stretches – the only sound coming out of the receiver is ragged breathing. It echoes loudly in the empty room, making him more impatient to hear an answer. “Are you there?”

“I– yeah, sorry,” J.one answers, sounding breathless. “So how much time do we have?”

Minho takes a moment to breathe, letting his pulse slow down – aside from the slight strain in J.one’s voice, he seems to be doing fine, so there’s no need to worry. “For what?”

“The deadline. I still have to write a thousand more words,” J.one forces out a laugh, but it doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

It’s none of Minho’s business though. Felix would have helped him if anything were wrong, Minho is only here to help with the project. J.one probably doesn’t want him to interfere. Maybe  _ he  _ wants to interfere more than help with writing, though. He isn’t sure where that thought came from. 

“Let me check the email,” he answers as he hastily pulls out his laptop, navigating through his inbox. His own fingers are slightly shaking. Calm down. “We have until midnight. Can we make it?”

J.one hums into the receiver instead of answering, he sounds tense. “Y-yeah. I hope.” 

“Okay, what’s stopping us?”

“Me.” 

Minho holds his breath, not knowing how to respond. J.one doesn’t seem to want to continue talking either, though, and one of them  _ has  _ to make the first move. “Elaborate.”

“Um,” the deep voice falters, “I guess it’s a writer block? Nothing I write sounds coherent. This is horrible.”

“What isn’t coherent about it?” Minho returns, scrolling around the document to notice anything that stands out to him. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same text?” he presses on in disbelief. “The progress you showed me last week?”

J.one makes a noise of disagreement. “Ah, I have some more written– but it just doesn’t sound good!” 

“Share, I’ll take a look.”

Although with obvious reluctance, J.one copies the new bulk of text into the document, already pointing out all the details that don’t make sense and drive him crazy. Minho wants to tell him he hasn’t had the time to read over it yet, but the author can’t seem to stop rambling.

So Minho talks over him, reading the new paragraphs out loud until he catches J.one’s attention. Every now and then, when he finds something especially good, he makes a comment about it, and whenever J.one finds something he doesn’t particularly like, he points it out in turn.

They happen just as frequently – sometimes they even align. 

But instead of arguing about who’s right, Minho offers what he hopes is another perspective. Together, they rephrase everything that J.one doesn’t like, until the text sounds good to both.

“See? It should connect better now.”

“What if– no, it just doesn’t work,” J.one doesn’t give up on his depreciating attitude, though, “it doesn’t make sense at all.”

“Calm down; what doesn’t? It sounds okay to me.” He hopes he sounds consoling, encouraging – he’s not good at either, doesn’t know  _ what  _ to say, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. “We’re doing good.”

“I don’t know,” J.one whines, clearly distressed, “it’s a mess from start to finish.”

“Well, you’ll have to be more specific if we want to fix it.” 

“The conversation between them when they’re traveling by train? It sounds so out of character, but they need to say the information,” J.one rambles on, voice hesitant yet urgent, “but I don’t know how to make it sound more realistic.” 

“Marshal sounds exactly like himself, maybe sans the comment about traveling?” Minho suggests, eyes scanning the text. “Not that he wouldn’t say that, but it doesn’t match his current mood.” 

“Yeah, um, I thought it sounded cute,” J.one admits. “I’ll try to use it elsewhere, maybe after they finish the mission and return home?” 

“Yep, sounds like a good plan,” Minho confirms, watching as the words disappear from his sight. He scrolls to the bottom of the document where a small heap of sentences is forming, labeled as ‘ _ For later use’.  _

He wonders if J.one will really need any of the half-written sentences, or whether he just doesn’t want to delete them entirely. As if he doesn’t always keep a folder of unused eyes at the bottom of the layer section of his WIPs.  _ Maybe they’ll be useful next time. _

“What about Punchy? That’s not really how he should sound,” the author continues, “but I need to make that point because he’s supposed to change his attitude later…” he trails off, and a silent whine makes it through the receiver. “I need to build this dynamic, but I don’t know how!” 

“Maybe try to mirror Marshal’s attitude,” Minho pauses to think, “or even Bob. Someone who’s obviously feeling the opposite way and that Punchy doesn’t understand how they can handle it?” 

Minho hears typing from the other side of the line, and a moment later, new sentences start to form and connect on his own screen. Here and there, he points out a typo or a poorly worded sentence, but he mostly admires the ease with which J.one produces words. Maybe they don’t sound good to his own ears, but it’s still impressive. 

Together, they navigate the document and do go over the other scenes J.one has marked as unfinished. The train ride, the secret meeting with detective Diana, the visit to Bob’s hometown, and all the way back to the island where they started.

“This whole scene is too to the point, but I don’t know what else to write without sounding like a maniac or going off topic,” J.one laments when they stop at the scene where Punchy and Marshal puzzle out a message from the clues they’ve previously collected. 

“Yeah, it does,” Minho confirms, and he can actually hear J.one’s sharp inhale. “I’m not criticising you. But maybe we don’t have to make it less obvious?”

J.one lets out a confused noise, so Minho continues. “They need to connect the dots  _ somewhere.  _ And it doesn’t necessarily sound bad.” 

“A-are you sure?” 

Minho does understand doubting himself, but he honestly doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with the story. He voices the thought to J.one numerous times, dismissing J.one’s weak protests. It’s frustrating, especially when J.one goes on about how nothing’s working out, where Minho sees a well thought-out story and one entertaining conversation after another.

“Do you really mean it?”

Minho momentarily stops talking, letting go of the characters to process J.one’s question. It’s no more than a choked whisper, voice low and muffled. It carries more emotions than it should be.

“Of course,” he confirms, mirroring the soft tone. “Do you really think I’d lie to you?”

The line goes silent again, but only for a moment – soon, he makes out a gentle hum, then an uncertain chuckle. “I wouldn’t know, maybe you just want to get this over with.”

“This?” Minho echoes, confused.

J.one coughs. “Um, the phone call. And all.” 

Minho gapes at the phone in disbelief. Of course not, he would have already hung up if he were bothered, damn, he wouldn’t have answered if he didn’t want to help him. Can he say that?

“Stop worrying about everything,” he answers instead. “I’m here because I want to help.”

J.one takes his time to answer again. Minho can hear some rustling on the other side of the line but no voice transfers through the phone for what he feels like is too long.  _ Was that weird to say? _

“Are you there?” Minho waits a moment, still no response. “J.one?”

It sounds weird to call him that, although he’s been doing it in his head until now. Not that he has another alternative, though… A certain thought flashes through his mind. “Ji?”

“W-what?” J.one chokes out, alarmed.

Minho’s heart skips a beat. “S-sorry, should I not have said that?” he rushes to apologise. “Felix called you Ji earlier…”

“Ah, no, it’s fine, just unexpected,” J.one confesses quietly. “Um, okay, do  _ you  _ have any more suggestions? Or can we agree that there’s nothing more to fix.”

“Nothing more to fix, because it’s already perfect,” Minho agrees. “Do you always think so low of your writing? Because I can assure you they’re all masterpieces.”

It’s odd to say out loud, not something Minho would have ever admitted out loud, but J.one needs to hear it. He loves each individual story for its uniqueness  _ and  _ his writing style. If that’s what J.one is worried about, then he really shouldn’t be. “Trust me.”

“…I do.” 

They conclude they’re done editing, and with all the changes, the document is at the required word count, but they stay on the call even as Jisung fills out the submission form. He promises to send Minho a screenshot for proof, then he thanks him for the night, exhausted, and Minho realises how much time it took them – he didn’t even notice, too immersed in talking to him.

“It’s okay; there’s no need to worry,” Minho coos gently. “I’m glad you called me; I don’t mind staying up. Not for a good cause, at least.” 

J.one whines in answer. “Okay, okay. Can you not talk to me like I’m a pet?”

“Sorry, that’s how I console my cats, I don’t really know how to comfort people,” he confesses. “But look, the story kicks ass, and I’ll personally fight anyone who thinks otherwise.”

J.one laughs again – it sounds relieved this time, nothing like the shaking breath and tense atmosphere from before. It makes Minho’s chest feel lighter in return.

They fall into a comfortable silence. Minho thinks about the story, how to possibly make it easier on J.one if this is what stress does to him. J.one uses the spare moment for catching his breath, slowing down his erratic breathing. 

“I can’t wait to see where the story goes.”

“Me neither,” J.one’s smile can be heard through the phone. Minho can’t properly imagine what it looks like, but he’s glad it has replaced the initial tension. “But first, I want to sleep for a week.”

“You deserve a break,” Minho nods to himself. “Sleep well.” 

They give each other good night wishes, and if Minho spends the night sleepless just thinking about the soft voice from the other side of the call, no one has to know.

He didn’t realise how pent up he has been until the phone call, but it’s coming back to him in a strong wave of relief – and yes, he’s glad that the phone call is over, but not because J.one was a bother. It’s simply because he knows not to worry now.

The chapter is finished, the progress is submitted, and the radio silence from J.one is (hopefully) over. 

**✎**

Events of the previous night still haunt him when he wakes up the next morning – or early afternoon, depends on whether you’re talking about the clock or Jisung’s routine.

His cheeks are stained with tears of relief, his heart is soaring somewhere above the clouds.

Lee Know is an angel, period. His own personal guardian, or maybe the devil himself with how easily he can play with Jisung’s feelings – one moment he’s drowning in his own despair, and the other he’s chasing after the scintilla of hope presented with Lee Know’s soft laughter.

He’s so grateful for having him, as a partner or a newly earned friend.

No one ordered him to stay with Jisung – he did that himself. He genuinely wanted to help him through it. Jisung’s feeling kind of nauseous thinking about it.

There must be something he can do for Lee Know in return – maybe write him a drabble? No, that’d be kind of shallow, and he’s probably going to be laughed off with  _ ‘you should have continued writing for the Big Bang instead’. _

Fair, but he still wants to say thank you.

Do something _special,_ something that would translate how grateful he is for Lee Know’s presence. _Something big._

**@j1.squirrel**

thank you for tonight you really helped me big time I don’t know what I would do without you

Uhm, sorry if it’s weird but.

May I take you out somewhere…?

He shuts his phone immediately, feeling his cheeks burn, and busies himself with  _ everything  _ but the reply. It shouldn’t sound weird, but it  _ does  _ anyway. 

Yet, he can’t think of anything better. 

After that, Jisung spends most of the day outside of his room, away from the distractions of social media. He even goes as far as watering their plants (although it wouldn’t be on the task list until tomorrow) and reorganises the knick-knacks in the living room. 

He blames Felix for opening his phone – he has the nerve to verbally announce that he sent him some memes, although he didn’t, just to make him check his messages again.

The younger  _ must have  _ sensed the unusual tension in his movements. He’s treating Jisung especially softly today, from a full course breakfast and gentle touches to a cuddling session with their favourite drama playing in the background.

But Jisung made the ultimate mistake of telling him about Lee Know’s phone call, and now he’s bombarded with questions and nudged to check the response to his morning texts.

Of course it has to be memes that finally crack him to get the phone hidden under the pillow just to avoid accidental glances until he’s ready to face the inevitable.

Which is never, but the harm has been done, and now he’s too curious to not open it.

“Stop avoiding the conversation, he’s not gonna bite your head off,” Felix reasons, nuzzling into his neck to peek at the screen from behind. The drama is long forgotten in favour of talking, rather using their free afternoon to catch up to each other’s progress on the Big Bang and Jisung’s misery. 

“How do you know that?”

“For one, he’s behind the screen, so he physically can’t even if he wanted to. Second, I wouldn’t let him,” he says resolutely, “but third, and most important, he wouldn’t.” 

“Look, I can’t avoid a conversation that hasn’t started yet,” Jisung objects, leaning away from Felix to hold his phone out of reach. Felix extends a grabby hand towards it, then changes his mind and wraps his arms around Jisung’s waist, pulling him back with his whole weight.

“Yeah? Your phone is saying something else,” he protests.

They wrestle for his phone until Jisung manages to slip away from Felix’ hold, pushing himself to the further end of the couch and sticking his tongue at him victoriously. His heart is beating out of his chest at the thought of what awaits him behind the locked screen.

He glances at Felix uncertainly, finding the other boy already looking at him in anticipation.

When he doesn’t make a move to unlock his screen, Felix groans and throws himself at him, laughing. “Open the damn app before I do it myself!”

“Fine, fine!” he promises, taking a deep breath to stop the nervous laughter from bubbling out. “Gimme a moment– hey, don’t look at it! That’s a private conversation!”

“I’ve seen your messages before,” Felix pouts but he stands up anyway, brushing off his knees and heading towards his door, “but fair, I’ll be in my room if you need to scream about your first date to someone.”

“There’s no–” Jisung stumbles over his words, cheeks heating up. But before he can clarify himself and deny the statement, Felix is already laughing again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tuts at Jisung, wiggling a finger at him, “I know what that look means.” 

His door closes faster than Jisung can grab a hold of the pillow and threaten to throw it at him, leaving him alone with his worries, the only company being the butterflies in his stomach.

**@leeleeknow**

Sure, I would love to

Do you have anything particular in mind?

**@j1.squirrel**

how does Levanter Café sound to you?

**@leeleeknow**

they serve the best americanos I’m in

**@j1.squirrel**

they also have the best cheesecakes, although they have nothing on Felix baking

**@leeleeknow**

whaaaaaat I’m jealoooous

Lix is constantly bragging about his baking skills

**@j1.squirrel**

I’m telling him he should open a bakery

anything made by him tastes better than heaven

too bad you can’t taste it ;P

**@leeleeknow**

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

unfair

**@j1.squirrel**

Just be jealous of me

**@leeleeknow**

who says I’m jealous of you

**@j1.squirrel**

you did just now XD

**@leeleeknow**

I never said who I’m jealous of though

**@j1.squirrel**

Hey!! I’m worth being jealous of!!!

who would you be jealous of that doesn’t even make sense

???????????????

don’t ignore me I want an answer

Jisung lets out a shaky exhale that soon turns into relieved laughter. See, there was nothing scary about asking him out – it’s not even  _ meant that way,  _ so he shouldn’t have stressed over it.

God, he’s such a high schooler about it.

Now that the meeting is settled, he feels the tension in his body dissipate. Soon, he feels like a cloud floating through the sky. The tingling happiness doesn’t fade even when Felix peers from behind his door, giving him a wink and a thumbs up. 

If he thought the nervousness would disappear with the date of their meeting approaching, he couldn’t have been more wrong. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it?

Jisung hasn’t been outside with anyone except Felix in months, maybe years – and maybe he’s just being dramatic. It’s always a  _ big deal  _ with him, though.

_ “You’re going to be fine,” Felix cheered him up while they were picking out clothes. “I can already see you two making everyone feel single.” _

_ “We’re not going on a date,” he has reminded Felix in return, swatting his hand away when the younger reached out to ruffle his hair. “Careful, I just brushed it.” _

_ “Why are you treating it like a date if it’s not?” Felix has teased him more, encouraged by the embarrassed whining Jisung couldn’t stop himself from _ .  _ He has reached out to flutter down the collar of Jisung’s shirt, smoothing down the fabric on his chest in a comforting way. _

_ “Look, you’re gonna have fun together,” Felix has promised him. “Min is a nice guy. And I know I talk about it like a date, but that’s just because I have the best friend privilege. It’s just a regular hang out.” _

That’s probably the reason why he’s so pent up now, standing idly across the street from Levanter Café, observing the patrons, keeping an eye out for the blue and white sweater Lee Know said he’d be wearing. Of course he’s looking forward to meeting Lee Know in person, but the setting is unfamiliar, and he doesn’t want to appear out of place. Date or not. 

His palms squeeze around his sleeves firmly as he forces himself to walk towards the café. With each step closer his heartbeat echoes a little louder, and a new intrusive thought enters his mind.

_ What if he’s a serial killer?  _ Okay no Felix said that he’s actually a goofball with three cats, can’t be that bad…  _ what if I make a fool of myself? Though, it’s not like I can sink lower than  _ that, _ so I suppose… I have nothing to lose. _

With one final breath, Jisung reaches for the knob and the door chimes open. 


	3. Chapter 3

Minho is patiently sitting at a table for two, secluded enough to give him privacy if J.one was too nervous to talk about their project but close enough to the front of the café to provide an observation point.

This way, if Minho squints enough, he can see the customers in front of the café just well enough to recognise them past smudged colours. He’s looking for a particular colour combination: orange sweater and obnoxiously blond hair.

The weather cast doesn’t look as pleasant as when they settled the details, so there’s a possibility a jacket or a beanie will accompany his look. J.one also mentioned wearing platform shoes, but that’s a detail he won’t see until the author enters the café.

He’s nervous to meet J.one in person, curious to see what he looks like but thrilled to see if they match so well in real life, too. The answer should be obvious, but it only makes him more eager to see them in action.

He texted J.one already – the author apologised for being late and promised to pay for his coffee, which he promptly dismissed, even if his wallet would gladly take him up on such offer.

The point of them meeting up is already a thank you for everything Minho has done, according J.one’s words, and while he doesn’t think he deserves that extra credit, who is he to decline the idea? He wants to meet J.one so badly. 

When J.one finally arrives, Minho is already sipping on his first coffee, too exhausted from the school week to wait until they order together.

He doesn’t even notice J.one approaching, caught up in the twitter timeline of mutuals sharing their art and Felix complaining about some western drama he’s watching. Neither is interesting, but the dull atmosphere of the café isn’t either, after observing the environment for half an hour.

That is, until he catches the sound of someone approaching his table with heavy, clumsy footsteps, then registers an orange smudge in his peripheral vision.

It takes a moment for his brain to catch up to his actions, shutting his phone off and turning around to take in the stranger in front of him before the circumstances dawn on him.

The tiny, soft looking man in front of him, wearing a button down hidden under an oversized orange sweater and a pair of dangling flower earrings must be J.one. And the tight feeling in his chest must be a reaction to coffee reaching his veins. Right, not a response to the slightly frightened, wide eyes.

The author must already understand he’s got the correct table – Minho is dressed in the exact outfit he was supposed to, white and blue cardigan thrown over a t-shirt and his bridge glasses seated on his nose. Maybe he’s a little underdressed for J.one’s outfit. That must be a difference in styles.

When he realises he’s been staring for a little too long (and yet J.one doesn’t say anything, equally as stunned), he lets out a nervous giggle. He gestures at the empty seat, giving J.one a small ‘hi’ and watching the younger stumble over his own greeting.

Once he’s seated, melting into the soft cushioned seat, J.one seems to deflate slightly. He fidgets with the paws of his sweater, unsure of what to say, so Minho decides to take the lead. “Lee Minho.”

He figures it will be the easiest this way – they’ve already come as far as meeting face to face, and it’s not like they don’t have a mutual friend, what’s one more personal information. Plus, he’s curious about his name as well.

Ji was all he got from Felix, and that wasn’t even purposeful. It could be an irrelevant nickname for all he knows.

“Han Jisung,” the blonde stammers out, extending a hand, “nice to meet you.”

Alright, Minho’s heard his voice through the phone already, so the deep rumble shouldn’t be surprising – but unlike the rough edge he remembers from that night, Jisung’s real voice is much gentler.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, seeing his overall soft appearance. Minho could almost say he resembles his writing style, airy and light – maybe as full of passion and emotions, too. 

A few minutes pass in silence.

Minho would normally let the silence stretch because he believes the best company can endure a peaceful silence – Jisung, on the other hand, looks like he might pass out if he doesn’t shake off the internal awkwardness.

And then Minho’s mouth runs ahead of his brain, lips splitting into a playful smile. “So, do I look like a criminal?”

Jisung looks up, alarmed. His eyes widen again, highlighting how big they are in comparison to his face – well, maybe except his equally round and puffed out cheeks. After a second too long, he lets out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe I was wrong about that, which I’m glad about.”

“I already ordered coffee,” Minho explains when he notices Jisung’s eyes scanning his mug. “Sorry, I really needed the energy boost. Any ideas about what I should have for dessert?”

Jisung’s eyes light up at that question, lips spreading into a childish smile. “Cheesecake, no discussion.”

Okay, that was kind of cute.

In an attempt to chase away the unwanted butterfly born in his stomach, Minho stands up and rummages through his bag, temporarily giving himself an excuse to take his eyes away from Jisung. “Lead the way, then.” 

Jisung shuffles after him, catching up to him once they’re at the counter. Minho stops by the dessert display briefly to inspect the cakes, playing an internal rock-paper-scissors to decide on a winner, then moves towards the cashier.

He turns around, expecting to see Jisung following him, but the space behind his back is empty. Instead, he finds Jisung squatted in front of the display, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“They don’t have cheesecake today?” he inquires, stepping closer to take a peek.

Jisung absentmindedly shakes his head in response. “They do. It’s just… I kind of like the chocolate torte. A worthy opponent.”

There’s something about the way Jisung stares at the cakes intently, caught in a crisis, that makes Minho coo at him internally. _This dork is writing a mystery case story. Right._

Without another word, he returns to the counter to finish their order.

“What did you get?” Jisung asks when he finally retreats from his position, plastering himself to Minho’s side to inspect the coffee making process behind the counter.

His eyes double their size when the cashier presents Minho with both cakes – cheesecake and a chocolate torte. The sight is comical.

“Did you get _both_ of them?” he wails. “But that cheesecake was the last slice!”

“One of them is yours,” he explains, taking the trail to carry it back to their table, setting it next to his sketchbook carefully. “You can take a bite from the other and see if you like it.”

Jisung beams at him with the brightest smile. “Thank you! Are you absolutely sure, though?”

“Well, I’m good with having anything,” he shrugs in response. 

It takes Jisung until the halfway of his cheesecake is gone to relax entirely. He’s comfortably munching on his dessert now, stuffing his cheeks with more cake at once than advisable, but somehow, it fits.

Most of Minho’s cake is already gone, too, although he only took about two bites. He can’t be mad about Jisung stealing so much of his cake, not when he inhales it with so much joy.

They eat in silence, but Jisung doesn’t seem to mind all that much. Actually, he looks content with the peaceful set up, and he even gets lively once Minho’s done with his food and starts doodling into his sketchbook, not wanting to bother Jisung until he’s ready to hold a conversation.

When he voices the thought out loud, Jisung chuckles in response. “I haven’t been out in public for so long I don’t even remember how to interact with humans.”

“You have Felix at home,” Minho disagrees softly, stealing a quick glance at the other. 

“Yeah, well, he’s more of a dog,” Jisung laughs again. “Don’t tell him that, he’s an amazing roommate, but he just doesn’t count into interhuman interactions.”

“Whatever you say,” Minho shakes his head. “Should we take a look at our progress, now?”

Jisung nods eagerly, tidying their plates away to make room for his laptop. Once he’s typed in his password and found the correct document, he turns the screen towards Minho.

“I added the scene with Diana where they talk about clues, can you take a look?”

The writing is flawless as always. Which doesn’t mean he doesn’t find typos along the way, and sometimes he has to reread a paragraph twice before he grasps the subject – it’s more about conveying the feelings of his characters so well they seep through the screen and right into Minho’s heart.

For a moment, he forgets his feet are planted to the floor, that the comforting pressure against his back is a cushioned bench of a public café. Of course he knew what they would be talking about, yet it doesn’t take away from the drama building up inside of him.

And then he looks up at Jisung’s expectant eyes, so much different from the hesitant messages they exchanged about the plot the first day – and something else blooms alongside the tension.

“What do you think?” he inquires, chewing at his lip again. “Too dramatic? I know they’re really just at the beginning…”

“You’re doing great,” Minho cuts him off simply. 

The rest of their meeting goes smoothly, filled with laughter and conversations he never would have thought to have with friends in real life. Mostly because half of them end up being about videogame characters’ backstories and made-up lore.

They don’t get much writing done, but they brainstorm past the scene where the main detective team locates the mastermind – obviously skipping over most of the story in-between.

In the end, their stomachs are full, and they return home contently. Minho refuses Jisung’s refunds for his half of the order, wins the clarifying rock-paper-scissors game and ends up being invited for another round.

“If I don’t get to treat you, where’s the point?” Jisung argues, amused, when they head outside. Then, his expression shifts into a serious one, and Minho isn’t sure whether it’s caused by the sudden exposure to cool October air or their conversation. “I just wanted to say thank you for that night.”

“You thanked me by inviting me,” Minho answers simply. “That itself is enough.” 

Jisung doesn’t let himself be shaken off that easily. “Next time I’m actually paying for you.” 

He doesn’t, and he stops trying after the third meeting. Minho is partially disappointed about the lack of bickering as they stand at the counter, annoying the current cashier, or at the table just before they bid their farewells. But then, he doesn’t see a reason for backing off.

Having an excuse to meet Jisung in person is honestly the best thing he could have asked for – and the thing is, he hasn’t, it wouldn’t even have to be a _thank you,_ he just likes the connection.

It doesn’t sound well put into words, though, so he just stubbornly refuses Jisung’s attempts at being a gentleman instead.

Maybe it’s also because it sounds too definite – it suggests the meetings are a one-time prize, rather than a shift in their dynamics. Minho doesn’t want to _earn_ seeing Jisung in person.

It’s that simple. 

**✎**

Okay, Jisung was out of his mind when they were supposed to meet for the first time. But it’s become a routine by now, so it doesn’t make him as nervous. At least the excitement is ever-present.

The first meeting went quite well, and even after the unimpressive intro, Minho and Jisung somehow managed to find a way to bring out their usual easy-going banter. It only went better from there, Jisung’s nervousness melting away with the hot coffee.

By the second time they visited the café, any worries Jisung might have had about their relationship disappeared. They get along through messages, so they get along in real life, once Jisung gets over his initial awkwardness. 

It’s that simple.

Things are always simple with Minho. 

Jisung already lost count of the many times they’ve been here together. Depending on the day, one of them gets to the café early and claims the table, waits until the other escapes classes, and then they spend the afternoon caught in a pleasant conversation about whatever comes to their minds.

Today it was Jisung’s pleasure to get to the café ahead of time, settling into their usual spot and letting himself get immersed in the assignment due the next day. Although he doesn’t mention it to Minho, getting here first is somehow an achievement in his mind.

Not only does he have time to work on his projects in peace – he can enjoy the show of Minho entering the café in his unbothered, casual fashion. His eyes are already trained on Jisung when he walks in, growing accustomed to their usual spot.

And yet, he needs to take his eyes off the younger as he manoeuvres around the tables, which gives Jisung an additional moment to observe the way he’s dressed, the way he carries himself.

Not that he notices, anyway.

Today, when Minho joins him at their table, throwing his bag onto the bench carelessly, his order is already on the table – Jisung shoots him a victorious smile instead of a greeting. 

They tend to experiment with the dessert choices, but they more or less stick to the same menu each visit, and Jisung was thrilled to start working as soon as they could.

Ordering takes away the precious time they could have been writing instead – and what’s more, it means treating Minho despite his reluctance. It would probably be wiser to just accept that he doesn’t have to waste extra money, but Jisung can’t help it.

It’s not a competition but if it were, he would have won. At least this one time. 

Minho doesn’t waste any time and with their laptops finally on the table, they get to work.

Jisung decided to skip forward a little with the story, which makes it understandably harder for Minho to grasp the plot – Jisung doesn’t blame him for being grumpy about his habit of writing out of order. But despite the light complaints here and there, he continues to review the document and ask questions. Minho _wants_ to understand. 

They fool around a little when they finish yet another scene. It’s what they do, another part of their routine – they write, discuss, bicker… and observe the surroundings, making up backstories and scenarios for the other customers. 

Usually with a criminal twist, to keep it in theme with the story. 

When they return to the document, they have half a dozen new ideas to pick from. From there, they fall into a familiar pattern: Jisung sketches them out, Minho rejects half of them, Jisung argues they’re actually good, Minho shuts him up with a piece of cheesecake–

Wait, what? 

He almost chokes but the texture is soft enough to be swallowed without complications. Next thing he knows is Minho holding out his cup of coffee, smiling so wide it should hurt. 

Okay, that’s new. 

At least the rest of the meeting goes without any unexpected incidents. 

“I’m feeling refreshed,” Jisung admits, leaning back against the cushioned seat. “Fully charged, ready to wrap up another chapter!”

He stretches his arms above his head and scrunches his nose to suppress a yawn.

“Woo!” Minho chants, clapping his hands in a tiny motion.

“But we haven’t figured out who’s the accomplice, how am I supposed to write the build-up?”

“Roll some dice?” Minho suggests absentmindedly, playing with the last piece of cake on his plate. “Or we could just leave out their name and return later.”

“It’s an important detail! Each villager would betray him for a different reason,” Jisung insists. “Look at Boomer – he’d probably trade him for a bag of candies.”

Minho hums in acknowledgement, eyes straying to the far corner of the ceiling as he thinks about the scenario. His brows are furrowed just enough to show wrinkles, and as much as it adds to the seriousness of his expression, it’s actually kind of cute. “And Puddles would probably bury his weapons underground, just for fun.”

“Skye would have a breakdown and realise it’s not morally correct,” Jisung adds. “See? It matters.”

“Okay, why don’t we look at the XXXs later, then?” the older asks, mouth full of cake now. “Seems like we won’t move with the plot much, at least not until you make up your mind.”

“We could, we could,” Jisung agrees happily. “I think we’ve done a good job for now!” 

They don’t stand up immediately when they’re done eating. Minho talks about the latest game update, then about the weather cast and possible snow in the upcoming weeks – Jisung is very happy to let his thoughts stray away from the story for a moment. 

It’s nice. 

He still thinks about who could be the accomplice during his walk home but it’s fun, after Minho suggested his own ideas. He entertains the thought of having Puddles take the role, both because it could be a nice light-hearted addition, and to keep that reference to their conversation, even if they would be the only ones to understand. 

Jisung shrugs his jacket off unceremoniously as he rushes around the apartment, eyes glued to his phone where message after message lights up his screen.

He knows they made a deal about texting each other once they’re back, but Minho’s way home is apparently shorter. Jisung doesn’t have it in himself to tell him to wait. It was fine while he was in the bus, except he almost missed his stop, but it’s less fun and games when he keeps bumping into furniture along the way to his room.

“You _just_ got back,” Felix laughs from the kitchen – Jisung briefly registers two mugs in his hands. “And you’re already stuck to your phone talking to him.”

“Can’t blame me, the deadline is approaching,” he reasons, looking up when Felix presses one of the mugs into his trembling fingers. The warmth of the hot tea seeps into his frozen fingers.

“The deadline’s in a month,” Felix raises his eyebrow playfully, then pats his back. “Good to see you happy, though. It’s finally coming along.”

“Yeah,” Jisung agrees with a tiny smile tugging at his lips. “Finally progress that doesn’t feel like it’s killed me and now has to be extracted from the soil of my grave.”

“Weirdly specific, but mood,” Felix laughs loudly, and that’s the last thing Jisung hears before he closes himself in his room, getting comfortable on his bed and pulling his laptop open.

**@leeleeknow**

What about the next part

when they’re called to the HQ?

that’s probably where they should tell him about the case

**@j1.squirrel**

no no no

the boss will just be like,,

“deep condolence please destroy this or keep it as a memory”

and he gives them some of Bob’s stuff

but no info

he doesn’t think they’re worth it

agent privileges you know

**@leeleeknow**

How do they know where to find him, then?

And weren’t they detectives?

**@j1.squirrel**

that’s what Tasha is for

she’s an agent too

and they meet other agents on their journey

DOES IT MATTER IT’S THE SAME THING

**@leeleeknow**

…

No it isn’t

**@j1.squirrel**

For the sake of brainstorming

**@leeleeknow**

you’ll accidentally use it in the story

also

Why is everyone suddenly undercover what’s going on in your head

**@j1.squirrel**

you don’t actually want an answer

but Tasha apparently

**@leeleeknow**

I’m pretty sure she’s like, into dark poetry

**@j1.squirrel**

Tasha would totally be a part of their organisation

She’s the front line agent

>[ _j1.squirrel is typing…_ ]

**@leeleeknow**

Again

Isn’t she supposed to be a detective?

They work under police

**@j1.squirrel**

Look, the only ‘police’ of animal crossing is Isabella

Wait do you think she’s the police chief

WHAT IF SHES THE POLICE CHIEF

I THINK YOU’RE ON TO SOMETHING

**@leeleeknow**

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

I said nothing

**@j1.squirrel**

Great, then I’m claiming it as my genius idea

and who cares

if they’re agents or detectives

I’m the author

**@leeleeknow**

Full of yourself much

**@j1.squirrel**

So you’re saying you know better huh

THEN HELP ME

I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THIS

You’re the agent in this relationship

**@leeleeknow**

I thought I was a psychic

**@j1.squirrel**

Well wouldn’t you be a great agent with that ability

The opponents wouldn’t know what hit them

**@leeleeknow**

ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

You should be my partner then

With such an unpredictable mind

At the end of the day, another scene is finalised, and a bunch of new notes are added into the last bit of the story. Jisung smiles like an idiot while he updates the formalities to match what they’ve written so far, already thinking of a proper summary and adding some more tags.

Because Minho doesn’t actually see what he’s doing (not yet, at least), he dares to include a few of their own quotes into the conversation. It’s exciting to think about Minho opening the document and recognising certain lines. He hopes it will make him smile just as much.

With that, he concludes his writing session and returns into the kitchen where he finds Felix already waiting for him with dinner and a million questions about their latest meeting. As always. 

To be honest, whatever they have going on is a very pleasant routine.


	4. Chapter 4

Admittedly, it would have made more sense to visit the park in the spring when everything is blooming, and the panorama sparks with vibrant colours. It would mean having a more romantic scenery (which isn’t _necessary_ but would surely feel nicer) and less layers to stuff into.

Nevertheless, the weather forecast showed an unusual wave of heat for this weekend – and although that’s an information Minho only realised _after_ agreeing to meet Jisung here, the point stands. A picnic was definitely a good idea.

The idea came out of the blue – at least to Minho. Jisung insisted on changing the scenery, saying that he can relax better when he’s outside, rather than constantly surrounded by people. Minho chose not to point out that they tend to act like they're in their own world when they're together.

After so many times they’ve met at the café, Minho shouldn’t be nervous. And yet, the change of scenery makes him a little uneasy. It’s the same feeling that passes through him when Jisung leans in a little too close when he’s showing him something on his phone, or when he smiles a little brighter.

Breathe in, breathe out.

It’s just a hang-out, the same as any other day.

Nevertheless, the slight excitement is hard to shake off, buzzing through his body as he thinks about how today might go – _would_ go if he were more confident. _Would_ go, but won’t, because as much as Minho wants to dream, the reality is different.

The setup is unbelievable as it is. Mere months prior, he would have laughed if someone said he’d get this close to J.one – with Minho being a smaller creator, it wasn’t likely the author would notice him on his own. 

What they built would be too sad to ruin with probably unrequited feelings.

Especially when they’ve only been present for a few weeks. A crush is a crush, and as much as it feels pleasant to experience, it will pass eventually. 

Jisung arrives late – at least he lets Minho know early. He has enough time to walk around the lake exactly once, looking for a secluded spot where they could settle down.

Jisung wants to have privacy to focus and relax, while Minho prefers it for a whole different reason.

**@j1.squirrel**

I’m really really sorry

the next bus will be here soon

**@leeleeknow**

Nah it’s fine

Why didn’t you set an alarm or something?

**@j1.squirrel**

alarm??

DO PEOPLE DO THAT

WAIT

is that some life hack no one told me?

**@leeleeknow**

Or you could have asked Felix to remind you

**@j1.squirrel**

oh

um I actually did

we were too immersed in getting ready

**@leeleeknow**

Right

**@j1.squirrel**

hey

should I keep texting u?

so you’re not bored waiting for me

**@leeleeknow**

Do I have a choice?

ㅋㅋㅋ

Go on

**@j1.squirrel**

okay okay

so

what makes you like Punchy so much?

**@leeleeknow**

for one, he’s a cat

he looks so content with himself and doesn’t care about what others think

looks at you like he’d seen your soul

**@j1.squirrel**

that’s definitely normal

okay fair

**@leeleeknow**

what makes you like Marshal?

**@j1.squirrel**

do you really have to ask

Marshal is the fandom sweetheart

**@leeleeknow**

so you just like him because everyone does

**@j1.squirrel**

HOW DARE YOU

he’s my precious child

people kept telling me we’re alike which got me into acnh in the first place

_And they’re not wrong,_ Minho thinks as he projects the picture of Jisung and Marshal standing alongside each other into his mind, spotting the differences. They really _do_ look alike. Especially with Jisung’s blonde hair and round cheeks.

Minho giggles out loud.

When he glances around, Minho stumbles out of the path just in time to miss an oncoming cyclist. 

**@leeleeknow**

So should I think of you as a cute angry squirrel?

**@j1.squirrel**

there is more anxiety than anger in me

but I love coffee and writing and music and I have totally his style in clothes

**@leeleeknow**

He wears anything you gift him so...

but you’re right

**@j1.squirrel**

I know

what about?

**@leeleeknow**

that you look alike

your cheeks just as pink and chubby

Jisung stops there, and Minho wonders if it’s because the bus has finally arrived. Curious to know and impatient to see the younger, he picks up his pace. The surroundings become blurry when he focuses on the distant gate, eager to spot Jisung among the entering visitors.

Jisung is already waiting by the entrance when Minho emerges from the path between bushes. He waves excitedly, and his smile can be spotted from miles away.

“I found a perfect spot,” Minho greets him, hesitantly reaching out to place his hand onto Jisung’s back and push him towards the place. Jisung doesn’t mention the contact, too busy apologising for being late.

“I swear that the bus system will get me to drive one day,” he huffs out, kicking a pebble with his favourite platform boot. “I’m actually thinking about learning how to drive, but you know. It takes a lot of time, I think.”

“Time you could use for writing?” Minho guesses and Jisung wildly nods in agreement. “Especially now. Any minute is a precious minute.”

Jisung has mentioned before that he wants to write professionally, majoring in creative writing. He wants to publish a novel one day if everything goes right – Minho can already tell it will be a good read. 

He also has a short term goal of finishing the Big Bang story, which would progress better if he were at home, _actually writing_. 

“And yet you’re here with me,” he teases again, observing the slight blush spreading onto Jisung’s cheeks. It’s probably from the cool breeze. It makes him look pretty.

“Of course I’m here, this counts as a part of our writing process,” Jisung reasons.His eyes wander towards the lake and before Minho can register anything, he’s being pulled towards it. “Oh my god, Minho, there are ducks!”

Forget their _perfect secluded spot,_ Jisung found the ducklings.

But Minho chooses not to argue with his excitement, not wanting the radiant smile to disappear. Instead, he follows closely after Jisung, stopping at the root of the nearest mound to spread out a blanket onto the grass.

Jisung is still carrying a basket with food, balancing it on his lap as he crouches down to get closer to the ducklings. They don’t look very happy with human presence, but they haven’t swam away either.

He only returns to where Minho is sitting after he wishes the ducklings a bon voyage, eyes widening at how quickly Minho set up the blanket. Minho bites his tongue instead of telling him he’s been crouched by the shore for a good moment.

Instead, he requests snacks, and Jisung indulges him. 

Minho lost track of how long it’s been since they arrived in the park, but he finds himself craving more. The sky has gained a suspiciously grey undertone and the wind has picked up slightly. Jisung shivers whenever the wind blows a little sharper.

And yet, he insists on staying.

Minho doesn’t argue with him, equally as eager to stretch the moment. He likes the excuse to pull Jisung into his side, enjoying the additional warmth spreading through his body. They’re barely touching, and Jisung’s head keeps bobbing as he speaks so it never stays on Minho’s shoulder for long. It’s pleasant, anyway.

However, everything needs to come to an end soon, the hang-out wrapped up with a single sneeze. 

“Aw, look at you, someone’s cold,” Minho mutters playfully, already shrugging down his own jacket to hand it to Jisung. The younger reluctantly takes the offered clothing. The speed with which he bundles inside, arms and body suddenly being drowned by the jacket, confirms that he’s just playing though.

“What about a stroll around the park?” he suggests, already wobbling to his feet. “No- not because I’m cold, just to stretch our legs. We’re done with the brownies anyway.”

Minho hums in answer, looking for a witty remark. He’s too distracted by the way Jisung’s lip juts out when he’s pouting down at Minho to think of anything coherent. “I don’t feel like moving.”

“Oh, come on, hyung,” Jisung whines, stepping closer to grasp at his forearm and pull him up. Minho wrestles out of his hold once, twice.

He can’t stop laughing at Jisung’s unsuccessful attempts to heave him up, interrupted by him idly standing above Minho, hopping on his feet – either out of frustration or because he’s warming himself up. The jacket should be warm enough to keep him safe from getting cold, but maybe his legs would also appreciate something covering them.

Minho feels cold just by looking at him. 

A shiver runs down his spine, but he’s not lucky enough to hide it. Jisung smirks at him, mirroring his previous tone: “Aw, someone’s cold.”

He’s standing up immediately, running after Jisung who flings himself out of his reach and bolts away. He halts to a stop when Minho announces he’s not running after him and comes back to help with folding the blanket and stuffing it into the now empty basket.

“Do you think we could make them have a picnic?” Jisung murmurs quietly, more to himself than Minho. “It doesn’t make sense with their setting, but it’s nice.”

“Or maybe we should stick with the original plan,” Minho shakes his head, chuckling. “They can have a picnic once the mystery is solved.” 

The rest of their walk towards the bus stop is remotely quiet, spare for occasional silent curses falling from Jisung’s lips when the wind blows especially harshly. Minho sets his jaw and pretends he doesn’t suffer even more, but he doesn’t request his jacket back.

He insists on waiting for Jisung’s bus, refusing to get onto his own even though it comes sooner. “You’ll freeze if I leave you here alone.”

Jisung wants to argue but he cannot deny the statement, and so they fall into another comfortable silence. They talk a lot, since Jisung never really shuts up, but even the silence that sometimes falls upon them is pleasant. Minho lets his eyes flutter closed.

“Got any plans for tomorrow?” Jisung inquires, stepping from foot to foot, eyes fixed on the park looming behind them longingly. Minho follows his gaze towards the closest flower bed.

“Avoiding my assignments,” he answers simply.

“Great, we both have time to waste,” the younger announces gleefully, eyes sparkling. “What about visiting the Aquarium? They’re having discounts around this season.”

Minho raises an eyebrow.

He watches as Jisung’s cheeks heat up and his useless attempts at bringing Minho’s attention towards his wildly gesturing arms. “We could have the main clues be about fishes, let’s learn a thing or two!”

“Didn’t we say it would be letters?” he questions, tilting his head in a teasing manner.

Obviously, he would love to visit the Aquarium with Jisung. He’d agree to just about any activity and meeting place he can think of, as long as they get to spend time together. But that doesn’t sound well spoken out loud – teasing is the easier option, and always rewards him with a blushing Jisung.

“We could have multiple clues!” Jisung stutters. “Come on, they’re cats!” 

“Right, so Aquarium. For study reasons, then?”

“Obviously,” Jisung confirms, relieved to see that Minho isn’t about to argue nor tease him further.

He is absolutely wrong about the latter. “And this one was for learning about bugs, huh?”

But then Jisung falls silent again, shuffling his feet and slipping his hands into the pockets of Minho’s jacket in an attempt to shrink in on himself. “Uh, no, I wanted to… share Felix’ brownies with you, that’s all. And you can’t really take your own cakes into a café.”

He sounds so sincere – a little flustered, a little strained, and absolutely tiny.

Minho almost thinks that he _meant_ something by the honest tone, but then he reminds himself that the heartbeat only echoes in his own chest, and he’s the only one whose throat has closed up.

Which is why he doesn’t answer, gasping at words stuck between his mouth and the filter that tells him they’re too dangerous. They might burn his tongue if he breathes them out. 

“Oh,” is the only thing that escapes his mouth before Jisung’s bus arrives, and it’s the last thing Jisung hears before he rushes inside with a hasty ‘thank you for today!’ and disappears from Minho’s sight.

And then, Minho is left there… standing. 

✎

The fervent typing echoing through Jisung’s room temporarily fades away.

Finally, after hours of staring at the document, Jisung has managed to spit out a few hundred words. Maybe they would be so hard to produce if he _knew_ where he’s going with the current scene, and maybe it would be even easier if he could just _focus._

But that’s a difficult task because his body and mind seem to be in different minds about what he should be paying attention to – and neither wants to produce words.

Firstly, he’s hungry. He’s so starved he’s starting to consider sacrificing his own fingers to the cause – but he knows that wouldn’t solve anything, because he needs them to write. And he knows that, eventually, Felix will return with dinner take out like he does every Friday.

He just needs to be patient, but that’s another challenging task.

Secondly, his brain has decided that tonight is the perfect time to think about the café visits and sharing cheesecakes, the picnic and chasing ducklings, and the Aquarium they visited last weekend. Ultimately, he can’t stop thinking about _Minho._

And that’s sort of a problem. 

It’s already distracting as it is, being kept on his toes when they’re out together and having to use extra will power to process whatever story idea he just got. It’s much easier with their banter, since that flows out of him mostly on instinct – but it doesn’t stop him from worrying he’ll accidentally say something not so innocent.

But that’s one thing, when they’re hanging out. That is when he’s _supposed to_ focus on Minho. He’s supposed to focus on the story in front of him now, though, and yet he can’t bring himself to do it.

A loud grumble escapes his stomach, and Jisung finally sets his laptop aside.

Felix will be a great distraction once he returns, and he might even help relieve the tension in his shoulders, and most importantly the one in his stomach. But for now, he’ll resort to watching dramas.

At least that was the plan. 

**@leeleeknow**

What are you having for dinner?

**@j1.squirrel**

I literally just messaged Felix

he should be home soon why is he taking so long

I want my dinner now

**@leeleeknow**

I don’t have anything at home either

Wanna get something together?

**@j1.squirrel**

we better get some ramyeon

**@leeleeknow**

Sounds like a plan

I’ll be at your place in 15

Jisung didn’t expect the invitation but he’s desperate enough to take it. 

Minho is beaming at him when he opens the front door to let him in, gesturing his hand to get going. Jisung slips into his platform shoes and out of the apartment. 

When they arrive at the grocery store, Jisung’s first destination is getting a cart. He can hear Minho’s laugh of disbelief somewhere in the distance when he hops onto the cart, getting a hold of its handle and manoeuvring it around to face the impressed hyung.

“Now we’re ready for our adventure,” he announces, shooting Minho a bright smile. “Our first destination?”

“Vegetables valley,” Minho answers, catching up with him as Jisung swings his leg to get the cart to move. “The healthy allies.”

“Actually, why can’t you buy vegetables in Animal Crossing?” he wonders, the question falling from his lips impulsively when Minho places a hand onto his shoulder to stop by a particular aisle. “You get pears and coconuts but where are the carrots? What should I feed my rabbit villagers?”

Leave it to him to speak nonsense when he’s nervous.

However, Minho seems to genuinely consider the question, humming in acknowledgement.

“I have peaches and have already stolen a few cherries from other islands,” Minho shrugs. “But vegetables would be nice, too.” 

They raid the aisles until they have everything needed – instant ramyeon, vegetables – and everything they didn’t need, mostly snacks. A lot of sweets and chips to fit both of their tastes. Minho rolls his eyes when he catches Jisung adding _yet another_ pack of gummies once they’ve decided their mission is complete, but Jisung sticks his tongue out before he can comment on it and Minho lets it go with a chuckle.

Jisung’s heart jumps at the sound, so he moves towards the next aisle.

By the time they’re done, Jisung is very aware of the toll this will take on his wallet, but he holds it out towards Minho as they stand at the check-out counter anyway. Minho pays while he loads everything into a plastic bag. 

“Here,” Minho presses it into his hands, taking hold of the grocery bag instead. He looks at Jisung with an expression that he can only describe as _fond_. Jisung struggles to keep his grip on the wallet, hastily putting it in his pocket before he can drop it.

Minho’s pretty.

Oh no. That’s not a good thought.

Minho ushers him outside when he fails to respond, going on about what they could do once they reach Jisung’s apartment. _Why?_ Oh, they’re going to cook the ramyeon.

He barely listens to him on their way home, too busy chasing away thoughts that trouble his head. His attempts at slowing down his aching heart are unsuccessful. 

Felix isn’t home yet when they make it into their apartment, but he does show up later that evening to greet them and then disappears into his room to ‘ _give them privacy’_ although he stops for a brief chat with Minho when he finds the older in the kitchen.

Jisung busies himself with opening Netflix while the two chatter, mindlessly scrolling through the movie options until Minho settles on the couch next to him and points at a specific detective one.

Minho occasionally points out a mistake in the narrative, and they mindlessly discuss what ending they would go for if they were the directors. Their narratives align well, although they turn out to be nowhere near the actual ending.

But Minho doesn’t know that, having already snoozed off on Jisung’s shoulder, and Jisung isn’t going to spoil it for him. Both because it means having an excuse to watch the movie again, and because he doesn’t want to wake him up right now. Actually, it would be okay if he didn’t wake up at all and never moved from their position.

They kept their distance when they settled on the couch with ramyeon. Now, the bowls are long since empty and tidied aside, which made room for slowly gravitating towards each other without the fear of accidentally spilling food everywhere. At least that’s what was on Jisung’s mind when it all happened, but Minho seemed to be just as fond of the idea of sharing space.

What started as a gentle thumping sound at the beginning of the movie has now turned into a wild drumming of his heartbeat now. It’s not even surprising, with the way Minho leans into his side and clutches his hands into the fabric of his shirt.

He knows the picture will engrave itself in his mind – and that’s exactly the kind of thought he doesn’t need to be dealing with if he wants to keep focusing on his story. The thought he tried to get rid of.

And yet he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel pleasantly warm and safe. 

But then Minho wakes up, eyes fluttering open, and whatever magic spell he was put under backfires, spreading through him like a wildfire until he can barely breathe. 

The moment Minho is out of the front door, Jisung makes a beeline for Felix’ room, knowing the younger is busying himself with drawing to not disturb the two of them.

He finds the younger sitting on his bed with his stylus in hand, observing his left hand as he flicks it around to grasp the anatomy. Felix notices his presence quickly, lifting his gaze from his own hand to observe Jisung. “Ji?”

Jisung stands in the doorway numbly.

For a moment, they hold a silent conversation with their eyes – his are blown wide, probably, while Felix’ are sparkling with curiosity. He wants to know, and Jisung so desperately wants to share. To have an outlet to the emotions threatening to bubble out of him all day. 

“I have feelings, like lots and lots of non-platonic feelings, for Minho,” he breathes out uncertainly. Not because he’s wavering about the value of the words – it’s something he accepted a while ago – but it’s difficult to admit to out loud, especially when his throat decides to close up instead, choking the many emotions that were bottled up until now. 

Felix beams at him, gesturing him to shuffle closer so he can envelop him in a hug. Jisung appreciates his first comment isn’t _‘Ha, I knew it!’_ although he knows it will come eventually, but he doesn’t mind. Of course Felix knew this would happen.

Now, though, the only thing he can think about is the warmth his shoulder provides and the slight dampness on his cheeks. The feeling is overwhelming, from the squeeze of his heart to the way his head spins with the acknowledgement. The thought isn’t here for the first time, but it sounds more serious after today. Why, Jisung doesn’t really know.

Maybe it has something to do with how domestic the experience was, how easy it felt to be with Minho. Everyday activities like shopping and a lazy afternoon at home – he loves having his roommate by his side in moments like these, but Minho being a part of the picture is new. Very much welcome.

“Wanna tell me about today?”

Felix holds him gently as he talks about his day. His voice gives out whenever he’s about to mention Minho’s name and a new wave of warmth washes over his face when he reminisces about leaning into each other on the couch later that day.

By the time he’s done talking, his heartbeat thumps louder than his own breathing.

“Felix, what do I do?” 

Felix does indeed have a solution.

For both of his problems, actually, not just the overwhelming dizzy feelings. Because that might be the source of his second problem as well, but it’s not the most important thing on his mind. At least not  _ objectively  _ most important.

The second problem is the Big Bang story itself. Well, not as much the story as the intrusive thoughts that distract him from writing at best and add unnecessary feelings into the story at worst – definitely not as subtly as he thought, since even Minho has picked up on that.

_ “I know it’s your thing but consider whether it’s relevant.” _

_ “They’re partners and close friends sharing their most vulnerable moments, it could happen,” he shrugged as if that were an everyday occurrence. “Ask _ them _ to stop flirting, not me.” _

Jisung didn’t mean what he said – he doesn’t actually want Minho to stop saying comments that are just borderline flirty. But he doesn’t want it to be obvious, not to the older.

As long as Minho thinks it’s just a writing mechanism, it should be fine, but it doesn’t make it easier on himself. 

He has a deadline, and feelings or not, he must finish the story by the end of the month.

But that’s impossible in this state – head going around and back to only one subject.

Minho has already pointed it out to him before, saying that romance doesn’t belong in the story – and, and he  _ knows  _ it doesn’t belong in his life either, and yet he can’t stop himself. 

That’s why he agreed to going out for drinks in the first place – Felix said it would help him relax, ease off the stress of the upcoming deadline and newfound feelings. 

It’s not like Jisung had a better idea, and Felix knows him well – he writes more openly when his veins are buzzing with alcohol, no matter how much he hates the taste. Which is why he only drinks on occasions, and usually wakes up remembering nothing except finding a new collection of drabbles or poems or lyrics by his bed.

Today is an  _ occasion,  _ right? Actually, any day is an occasion, but not an occasion for drinking, because not any following morning is a good one for spending half of the day in bed with migraines– and yeah, what was his point anyway?

He had excused himself around maybe 1 AM, feeling dizzy and uncomfortably vulnerable out in the public. Felix took them home, significantly less affected.

And then he doesn’t remember much after, other than the need to write taking over his senses and then blacking out as soon as he comes in contact with his bed.

He was hoping to get some writing done, maybe even went as far as opening his computer, hazily looking for a blank google document to pour his feelings into – he’ll figure it out eventually.

Right now comes the pain. 

Jisung doesn’t remember much from last night.

From the very few memories lingering in the back of his mind, as well as the undeniable headache, he can confidently say they went drinking – well, Felix to flirt with boys and Jisung to get drunk and drown in the miserable feelings he shouldn’t have developed for Minho.

Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, he definitely remembers the echo of loud music blasting through his bones, the lonely table in the corner, and even the messages he exchanged with Minho before they entered the bar.

His battery died early into the night – and his memory not long after.

It’s probably for the better. He doesn’t want to remember all the sappy things he probably said about Minho. God, it’s already unbearable when he’s sober and can somehow manage the filter between his mouth and brain.

What if he actually told someone about his feelings? Felix already knows, and strangers don’t really care, but it’s embarrassing to think about. 

Oh god, he’s so pathetic.

Can’t even handle a tiny crush? 

At least he hasn’t done anything stupid yesterday – who knows what would have come out of this. Nothing,  _ nothing  _ would have come out of it anyway. 


	5. Chapter 5

Minho wakes up feeling aching to draw.

It happens often – he usually uses either of his cats to model for him, doodling into his sketchbook while eating breakfast, later instead of doing schoolwork.

Neither of his cats is willing to stay still today. Luckily, another project involves drawing cats, and now that he’s thinking about it, while Jisung’s been updating him on progress weekly… he doesn’t know when was the last time he opened the WIP file.

With assignment deadlines approaching, he hasn’t been drawing all that much – which explains the creativity rush of today. Alas, he spends the morning redrawing the background details.

He just wants to check a _particular_ detail about the scene – _Punchy and Marshal having returned to their home island, spying their suspects_ – so he can continue drawing. But then he notices a new bulk of text decorating the bottom of the document, and his curiosity gets the best of him.

Jisung won’t mind if he takes a look, right?

Except, the newly added text isn’t about animal crossing, nor detectives.

Which would be fine, maybe Jisung had an impulsive idea and couldn’t be bothered to open a new document. It’s like having various doodles on the same page.

He hesitates about reading further, confused about the story’s origin, but he’s already this far. And when he spots his own name drowning in the ocean of words, he decides he _wants_ to read it, whatever it may be about.

_ I looket into his deep eyes, holding the universe, although eh univetse was now seeping out. We hace just woken up, aftet a night of sleep.  _

_ We slept after a night of dreaming on each other. At least I have, because I love him – the soft smile, the calming voice, the blue. The cat-like eyes that sparkle when he laughs. _

_ He warpped his eyes around my waist, pullng me closer into the warmt seeping through the sheets, the only thing divding us. A few kisss landed on my neck where his breath tickled my skin as he chuxkled, his beautiful eyes sparkling with love. Oh, the love I stored for him. I leant in to connnect our lips in a sweet kiss. Minho turned it sweeter, plump lips oressing into mine. _

_ “I love you,” he wishpered against my skn, gently. “I want tp hold yu.” _

_ “I love you,” I sya bak. “Minnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn _

He reads a few lines, cheeks heating up.

The main character – _Jisung himself, most likely_ – lying in the sheets with Minho, obviously in love. Or at least in some sort of intimate relationship. Oh god. The rest of the story follows in a similar fashion and ends with a declaration of love before the text fades out where Jisung probably fell asleep.

There’s more to the story when he scrolls up. It takes too much effort to bring himself to read further, already feeling overwhelmed. Speechless. His eyes scan the text from top to bottom, unable to properly focus on anything except for his racing heart. 

To say that he’s freaking out is an understatement – but who can blame him. Jisung likes him back, as in _likes_ likes, which is really the only way to interpret what he’s seeing.

That being said, Jisung mentioned going drinking and this doesn’t sound too coherent – full of typos and randomly changes topics in the middle of sentences. 

The younger hates showing his works in progress to audience, and Minho _is_ technically a different case, but it doesn’t make him feel less guilty. He obviously shouldn’t have seen this.

Damn, of course he _shouldn’t have._ Drunk Jisung simply didn’t know where to put it, or what the consequences would be, or maybe he _wanted_ Minho to see – either way, sober Jisung probably wouldn’t want to go through the embarrassment.

It’s an outlet for his feelings, not a message for Minho. Not until it’s done, anyway, even if it was meant that way. Ah, this is not right. He should close the document and let Jisung delete it, then pretend he doesn’t know.

But… it’s so cute. And he’s been keeping his own feelings away for months now.

He decides it will be easier on Jisung if he doesn’t get to see his own drunken confession. It doesn’t belong to the document. And Jisung probably doesn’t remember writing it either, so it won’t make the whole thing awkward in the morning – Jisung always sleeps until noon anyway.

He immediately regrets seeing the text disappear from the screen. The screen feels so empty, _lonely,_ and suddenly, he’s filled with the same feelings. He undoes the action and ends up cutting & pasting it into his own document, away from Jisung’s eyes.

It’s too precious to be deleted, even if he isn’t supposed to know.

When Jisung finally wakes up, Minho tries his best to act completely normal – which isn’t a hard task, because Jisung can’t see him though the screen. He doesn’t have to worry about giving himself away.

** @leeleeknow **

Good morning

Slept well?

** @j1.squirrel **

Oh

well remotely

my head feels like it’s been hit by a golden brick

my fault though

** @leeleeknow **

Han Jisuuuung

Don’t attack yourself with bricks!

We need that brain to work

** @j1.squirrel **

right

this sexy brain will be available in the afternoon

hopefully

** @leeleeknow **

Hate to break it to you but

It’s already afternoon

** @j1.squirrel **

no it isn’t

I haven’t had breakfast yet

** @leeleeknow **

The world doesn’t revolve around your breakfast

** @j1.squirrel **

no but my day does

it will be afternoon as soon as I finish breakfast

** @leeleeknow **

Alright

Don’t forget we’re meeting at 5 PM!!

Minho considers cancelling their hang out, half because Jisung’s headache is probably not going to be helpful if they want to keep writing, and more importantly because of what he found this morning. But Jisung insists that he’s okay, and claims he remembers Felix giving him some painkillers earlier. 

When he arrives, he claims his head is still pounding, but he doesn’t look all too affected, so they return back to work. It’s mostly just editing anyway, so it shouldn’t be too pressuring. 

It’s not surprising that their dynamic stays the same. Jisung doesn’t have anything to be embarrassed about, and it doesn’t bring much difference in how Minho acts – if anything, it makes him sound brighter. Maybe a little too cheerful, but Jisung only seems to appreciate that.

However, when he looks closely, Minho realises a lot of things changed – not really, because they must have been there before, the little details he hasn’t noticed about Jisung before, but they’re new to him.

The way Jisung’s cheeks gain colour when they brush hands as Minho hands him his coffee, or when their thighs touch as they lean into each other’s sides to squint at Jisung’s screen. The subtle glances when he leans a little too close, when Jisung’s leg freezes under his touch.

He wonders what made him overlook the signs. Maybe his own trembling heart served as a distraction. Needless to say, he enjoys noting down each one.

And in return, he sends Jisung a soft smile each time he catches him looking – which isn’t on purpose, just an instinctive reaction, but it never fails to fluster Jisung even more.

Okay, _almost_ nothing changed in their dynamic. Minho just dares to be a little bolder, which Jisung always reacts positively to. He’s content with that change, as it brings warmth into his chest each time Jisung’s cheeks heat up and breath hitches – it reminds him this is the real part of their story. 

He can’t stop thinking about it – neither Jisung, nor the story itself. He’s so glad he hasn’t deleted it after all because he can’t stop reading it. It’s short, unfinished, and just a tad-bit incoherent. It’s perfect.

After catching himself doodling the scene into his school notes, he comes up with an idea. A proper sketch on a quality paper soon turns into a digital work in progress – and, yeah, Sailor Moon will have to wait just a little longer. 

It’s funny, how much energy he can pour into the drawing when it’s about Jisung – it _almost_ matches the enthusiasm with which he draws his cats. Only almost, though, because cat anatomy is the best thing to draw, period.

Needless to say, he finishes pretty quickly. It’s satisfying to see the two sleepy heads looking at him from the screen, and it makes him a little flustered, but mostly proud.

And… a little restless.

Because now that he’s done, he has _two_ pieces, not one, that keep him thinking about Jisung. 

Two pieces Jisung doesn’t know about, yet. But now that he knows his feelings are reciprocated, it doesn’t sound so suffocating to think about letting them out. He aches to let Jisung know.

**✎**

Jisung can’t believe the story is finished. Done. Over with.

 _Finally,_ he can relax and let himself catch up on everything that has happened this year. Most importantly, social media updates and recent dramas. Felix’ fic recommendations.

He’s exhausted from how much energy he’s poured into the Big Bang, and he still thinks the story could have been better if he had _one more week, one more day_ to work on it. It’s always like that.

But overall, he’s happy with the outcome – which is mostly thanks to Minho.

Minho, who helped him through the lows and kept him on his feet, hyped him up. Minho, who promised a reward for submitting on time.

_“I wouldn’t ask for another extension,” Jisung had assured him when he brought it up, but Minho just laughed._

_“Of course you wouldn’t, I’d be the one doing it. I wouldn’t mind,” he added when he saw Jisung’s eyes widen. “But the sooner we submit, the less stress it will be. And, if you manage to finish on time, I have a surprise for you.”_

_“It better be a cheesecake,” he joked._

Cheesecake or not, he knew it would keep him motivated enough to push through the last week of writing. But here they are, occupying their favourite table in Levanter Café and sharing celebratory cakes while chatting about nonsense. Jisung can’t imagine what could be better.

“It was definitely worth it,” he muses, stuffing another piece of cake into his mouth.

Minho quirks an eyebrow at him, amused at his eating antics. “What was?”

“The cheesecake,” he mumbles out between bites, “the writing,” he gulps down, “and everything!”

“Hmm, should I have bribed you with cheesecake then?” he hums. “Is that all it takes you to work?”

“As you can see, it does,” Jisung confirms. “Wait, you did, didn’t you? This is my prize.”

Minho presses his lips into a thin line and hums, not exactly in agreement. It’s that _well, this part is good, but we could make it even better_ reaction. “Not exactly.”

“What is it, then?” he pries, leaning forward into his space. Minho’s eyes stray away towards his screen for a moment before he moves to the side, reaching for his bag. The excitement only grows when Minho pulls out his own laptop.

“Close your eyes,” he orders and without questions, Jisung does just that – Minho doesn’t need to know he squints at him when he’s not looking, but the screen doesn’t give away anything except for the faint resemblance of his email inbox colour palette.

“Now you can,” Minho encourages him, locking his eyes on Jisung’s face. Jisung wills away the blush that spreads to his cheeks at the intense gaze and refocuses on his own screen.

A new email. 

Subject: let’s make fiction reality.

He turns his head to stare at Minho but then the older gestures him to keep reading. What catches it eye first is a drawing attached to the text – he looks at Minho for approval before he clicks it open. Oh, he could practically melt into the seat at the sight of two soft silhouettes kissing in the sheets. He tries not to think about how the blond one looks dangerously similar to him.

Then he returns to the text itself, scanning it with his eyes – at first in confusion, but then the memories come rushing back, and he doesn’t _remember_ writing it, but the text screams _him._

“Where did you– what? When?” he throws Minho a puzzled look. Okay, maybe he should have started with, “What does it mean?”

Minho opens and closes his mouth on empty, colour rising to his own cheeks. He lets out a soft whine before the words come rushing out of him. “That’s us. And that’s yours. I found it after you went drinking.”

Now it’s Jisung’s time to lose his words, embarrassment washing over him. Writing a declaration of feelings into the shared document – that’s the _worst_ thing he could have done while drunk, and yet it had the _best_ outcome he can possibly imagine.

He reopens the drawing, now taking his time to go over the details, letting it settle in. It’s so pretty, softly sketched lines and faded colours adding a pleasant morning atmosphere. It’s _beautiful,_ and it’s _them._

When he looks back, Minho is smiling shyly – he mirrors the action and leans into his side.

“I love it,” he whispers, barely audible through the drumming of his heart. 

Jisung and Minho are seated on the couch of Jisung’s dorm, two coffees resting on the table. Jisung is focused on the screen, counting down minutes, while the older rustles with the blanket fort they’ve built to cumulate warmth.

Today is the day of reveals – which means Jisung’s story will finally meet its audience in a few hours, maybe minutes. _How much more?_

It’s always stressful to post fics he’d struggled with finishing (once he’s read over his words a thousand times, they can never go back to looking pleasing) but it feels extra pressuring to have the expectations of everyone who’s been looking forward to this particular prompt. Even the prompter, the mods themselves.

Minho said that he should only care if he’s gifting it to someone – “commissions are truly the most stressing thing on Earth, how am I supposed to know if I haven’t accidentally drawn something that offends you? I don’t want to give a refund just because you forgot to specify something.” – but it’s easier said than done.

“You weren’t scared to show _me,_ and I was the only person who had the right to criticise you.”

“Excuse me, _you_ picked _my_ claimed prompt, so who’s judging who?” Jisung counters, muffling giggles. “I could have been harsh on you, making you polish every little detail–”

“Yeah, and you didn’t,” Minho grins devilishly. “Because it looks awesome. And of course I got all the details right, I’m a psychic.”

 _“Lee Minho,”_ he snatches one of the vacant pillows and slaps Minho’s thighs. A few more times for good measures, since Minho is already laughing.

“Han Jisung,” he returns playfully. Then his eyes fixate on the screen again, tapping Jisung’s shoulder. “Look, it’s up!”

Jisung’s arms freeze mid-air, then he swiftly turns around the beam at the screen. A thread of orange coloured graphics fills the screen, showing off brief summaries of written entries and sneak-peeks of art pieces – and among so many fandom favourites, Jisung spots their piece.

He hastily moves the cursor towards their submission, clicking open Minho’s illustration – giving him a cheeky smile – then clicking onto the link above.

It takes them to his own masterpiece, now decorated with about 25 hits and 14 kudos.

“Wow, so fast,” he whispers excitedly. Minho squeezes his hand in return.

And he holds on, even as their excitement fades into silence. They observe the page, either of them reaching out from time to time to refresh and see how the stats change. Frankly, Jisung doesn’t really care, but Minho seems eager to see its score.

Jisung wants to tell him he doesn’t care after all – although he does want to see the story is doing good, especially because Minho owns the credit for a lot of the plot – but Minho is already pulling out his own phone to give him another view.

Jisung tries to catch his username but he fails to be sneaky. Minho tuts at him, raising his phone above his head with a playful smile. “Nice try.”

His own phone buzzes not so long after, Felix showing his appreciation for their entries. Jisung doesn’t mention that he already saw Minho’s illustration (since Jisung might have been too eager and updated him on their progress) and so had he already disclosed most of the plot. It’s nice to get that additional boost of pride, though.

When he turns back to refresh the page, a new comment notification decorates the screen. 

“Perfect as always,” Minho reads out loud and Jisung looks up in time to catch him wink.

“Doesn’t count if it comes from you,” Jisung counters but he’s grinning like a madman – does that mean _this_ is Minho’s account? _Leemoncake?_

“How come?” Minho whines playfully. “I am the best judge of your writing.”

“Oh, I would know,” he lets out a laugh. One too many comments with Leemoncake’s name on them made him push through difficult WIPs. Minho’s eyes are reflecting the same fondness that spreads through his chest. 

A pair of arms wrap themselves around Jisung’s waist, pulling him closer into the heat of Minho’s chest. Minho buries his face in his hair, pressing a gentle kiss into his crown. “We made this.”

Jisung relaxes in his hold, letting his eyes flutter close. “Case closed?”

“Case closed,” Minho echoes into his neck before he presses another warm kiss into his skin. “Good job, Jisungie.”

**Author's Note:**

> *shy noises*
> 
> Thank you for coming this far!! Kudos & Comments are very appreciated~
> 
> [Find me on twitter](https://twitter.com/anknown_an)


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